I hit Armageddon today…

Wednesday, 11. April 2012

After five years of incorrect diagnoses, wasted heart surgery and every test known to man I finally met with the Armageddon of truth today, delivered by a kindly Syrian doctor who didn’t get embarrassed when I broke down in tears and confessed that he was very worried about the danger facing his family back home. He pulled out all the stops for me and within 20minutes gave me the full written report as well as a verbal summary.

The news is not good. I will never walk properly again. We have long suspected that inoperable fibroid growths are slowly chocking my airways and now we know for sure that similar, minute and obviously inoperable growths are eating into the nerves of my legs, feet and hands. The only good news is that there is stuff I can take for the pain and the cramps and an anti epileptic drug to ease the twitches and another more sinister sounding concoction which may slow the inevitable spread of the growths. At least it isn’t another cancer!

The reason this is happening to me is that in 1967 when I should have been enjoying myself I was fighting for my life against a cancer that killed my elder brother and all five of my cousins. The cancer came back, in both lungs in 1971 and I became the first person on earth ever to survive five years of that particular combination of killer diseases, which in turn enabled me to survive long enough to mock  as*holes who believe in facile rubbish…

Alas, the treatment back then was massive doses of radiation, about 200 times today’s “safe” dose, and I had it twice. I am now just about the only 45 years survivor left alive and they have finally realised through the deaths of many others that side-effect wise, radiation is “randomly connected” to nasty fibroid tissue damage, which can begin as much as thirty years after the main event, a bit like asbestosis only less malignant, thank God.

So here I am at 63 in June. At 16 I didn’t get cancer because I ate the wrong diet or lived the wrong emotional life and neither did my brother who died aged 4, so that knocks your stupid ideas of cancer causation on the head. It was hereditary, in the genes, sheer bad luck, could happen to anyone, may yet happen to any of you…

I expect some twats will step forward to tell me that I’ll be fine if I laugh a lot, if I eat beetroot till I turn red, if I read Krishnamurti, if I follow “The Secret”, if I “visualise” feeling well, if I follow Byron Katie – or any one of the other idiotic, terrified, cold-hearted beliefs you all adopt to separate yourselves from cancer.

But actually I shan’t be doing all that. I shall be trying my best to live as long as I can with the least pain and the least burden on Cora. I shall scourge the as*holes I encounter online and I shall tend my garden, sit in the sun and be grateful that I had any life at all. I should have died at 16 but I fought back. I now know that this was a mistake because I have endured 45 years of terrible anguish, pain, deprivation, prejudice, bigotry, put-downs, isolation and ill health. If I’d known what the world was offering me I’d have said no thanks.

But it’s too late now. There are people and things that I love and people who love me. I have to carry on for the beauty.

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